


Mollywatch: Doctor's Orders

by Laura_Laplace



Series: Mollywatch [2]
Category: overwatch
Genre: F/F, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:16:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7958449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_Laplace/pseuds/Laura_Laplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's favorite camgirl Overwatch agent invites Mercy to join her on stream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mollywatch: Doctor's Orders

**Author's Note:**

> Second chapter of the Mollywatch series, starring tumblr's own mirthfulmollywhop- or more specifically, her camgirl Watchsona, Pretty Havoc. See my page for the rest.

Overwatch had many rules and bylaws, its structure laid out in clear detail for its members to see. But in truth there was one rule above all others within the revived Overwatch team, a rule that went unwritten but, regardless, was respected and upheld by all:

_Watch D.Va’s expression carefully before you let her show you something._

Sometimes, people still forgot to do that. 

Had Mercy examined the near-manic sauciness on the young lady’s face before allowing herself to be led down to her quarters, had there not been a lapse in her otherwise meticulous judgment, she might have avoided this. She might not have been sitting on Hana’s bed, clutching a rabbit-shaped pillow to her chest as though it were a shield, blushing with the sort of intensity that made her seriously consider the idea that she had no more blood anywhere else in her body anymore. She might even, perhaps, not be feeling her hips shift below her, unconsciously, before renewing her efforts to avoid doing so again, or at least, to keep the movements hidden from those around her. 

It would have been possible, in short, for Angela Ziegler to dodge the bullet of sitting and watching porn with a sizable contingent of her fellow Overwatch agents. 

‘Bloody hell, girlie,’ Junkrat- who had apparently not even been in the building before this impromptu meeting of the minds, yet had nevertheless somehow fallen through an exploding ventilation grate moments after the moaning had started- said, his eyes glued intently to the screen. Angela reflected privately that this was the longest she had seen him pay attention to anything that wasn’t burning before, as he continued, ‘quite a find, eh? Quite a find indeed…’

‘It’s not like she makes some big secret of it,’ Hana shrugged, viewing the footage upside down, her head hanging off of her bed. ‘Molly likes people watching, I think?’

‘Aw yeah?’ The refined Mister Fawkes replied, his thick Outback drawl turning the words lascivious even if that hadn’t already been his intent. ‘Had yourself a little viewing party, did ya, hot stuff? A little private fiddle without inviting ol’ Junkrat?’

‘Do not make me shoot you, boy,’ Zarya demurred from the corner, where she leaned against a wall, all stoic and cool with the exception of her gaze, which remained just as fixed to the screen as Junkrat’s himself. ‘Because I definitely will.’

‘Just tryin’ to show me appreciation, tiny,’ the Australian apparently couldn’t contain himself completely, but he did pipe down to watch at Zarya’s answering glare. 

There was silence, then. Silence, punctuated by highly familiar whimpering. In front of them all, a recording of a live show played, starring none other than Overwatch’s newest agent herself, Pretty Havoc. Far and away from the scantily-clad blur they all knew from the battlefield, in the video she was almost completely nude, save for a ballgag forcing her mouth wide open, fetchingly painted lips pressed against unyielding rubber. Her slender, pale body stretched out before the camera’s field of view in all her glory, legs spread wide, offering prospective viewers an excellent shot of her pussy, pink and dripping, and currently under assault by the large, bulbous head of a wand vibrator. Molly’s clit took the brunt of this, the woman’s formless groans growing louder and higher pitched, her thighs growing tense right up until it looked like she was about to provide the money shot, and then she would remove the toy with an increasingly frustrated sigh, her eyes scanning something off to one side, out of view of the camera. 

Hana had explained, apparently delighted to do so, that in the live version of the show there was a laptop just out of shot, displaying messages from her fans that, at the time of this particular recording, were telling her when she was allowed to come using that toy. Apparently they were being particularly merciless today, resulting in the frustration etched into every inch of the nude girl’s features. Every near miss, every denied orgasm and the pitiful whimpering that followed, made Mercy blush harder. 

She was lucky, in some respects, that she had opted to take the seat at the very back of the room, with no risk of being spotted outright by any of the others in the room with her. All Angela could see were backs, their corresponding eyes all looking screenward, but the fear of being noticed, her arousal so clearly on display for anyone that cared to look, lingered at the back of her mind even as she, too, was absorbed in the smut playing out before her. It was impossible to look away, Molly’s beautiful body dragging at Mercy’s attention more and more, the longer it lingered on screen, driving her increasingly crazy the more she watched. She had begun to wish, several minutes ago, that she was alone in this room, able to safely slip one hand under the folds of her skirt, to touch herself until she was satisfied, looking at her gorgeous, writhing co-worker. 

Angela knew, in a guilty little corner of her brain, what her internet searches would primarily focus on tonight, once she had gone back to her own room. 

What she hadn’t known, was how completely that night would taint her time working with Molly in future. The girl was like a poison in her mind after that, an addiction she could never quite shake. Mercy caught herself staring at Molly’s butt and legs a number of times, almost whenever the younger woman turned her back on her, and medical examinations became near torture, Molly’s easily bruised ankles (those speed shoes of hers were unexpectedly hard on her feet) putting Mercy into close contact with those lovely, toned legs often enough to insert them into Angela’s masturbatory fantasies every night, wrapped around her hips…

It took a week, for Molly to ask to speak to her privately. 

Mercy couldn’t help but blush to herself, as Pretty Havoc led her down the long hallway to her quarters, the pair of them still dressed for battle, the aches of a recently concluded mission (no casualties, minor repairs needed on Genji and slight lacerations on Mei) still settled in their muscles. Inexorably, her eyes were dragged down to those tight, swaying shorts, the perfect, delicious shade of pink to enhance Molly’s natural curves, aided by the woman’s sex-on-legs walk. She paused when Molly opened her door and invited her inside, feeling that a step beyond that threshold would also be a step that she couldn’t take back, some new, strange world beyond, contained within Pretty Havoc’s little living space. 

‘I wanna show you something,’ Molly said, sitting down and patting a place beside her for Mercy. ‘It’s… well, a little intense, maybe. You don’t need to stay, if you don’t want to. It’s totally cool, either way.’

‘I’m a doctor, Molly,’ Angela replied. ‘I’ve done intense. Thank you for the warning, but I doubt you could shock me anymore.’

‘Well, see, you say that…’ 

Pulling her keyboard into her lap, Molly clacked at the keys for a moment, calling up a page on her screen that was conspicuously adorned with her own naked body. Mercy blushed beside her, but she very pointedly didn’t notice, her other profession long having been normalized to the point of routine for her. Still, that model of pale, physical perfection was always there, populating the borders of the screen, pulling Angela’s eyes back to it at every opportunity.

‘Look at this:’ Molly gestured at the screen, where a column of comments had arranged themselves: Plz do a vid with Mercy!; Mollywatch featuring the hot blonde next!; Play doctor, Molly!

Angela allowed herself to read each one in succession, her eyes stumbling over some of the more vulgar words, her mind spinning as she absorbed the demands, requests, and cajoling questions contained within. One after another, for a full page, and then another, and another…

‘This is what happens when I search for your callsign on my site, Angela,’ Molly turned to her. ‘You’ve got a fanbase, girl. So…’

‘So what?’ Mercy asked, and then swallowed, suspecting the answer. 

‘So…’ The young nymph drew the word out, eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘You wanna give the people what they want?’

Angela did not answer. Angela’s mouth opened, and then closed. Angela swallowed. 

She knew her eyes had gone wide at the question, the fact that she knew it was coming unable to prepare her for actually hearing it. The offer hung in the air between them, light and innocently made… well, as innocent as a proposition to make pornography could be. Looking at Molly didn’t make things better; her expression bespoke vulnerability and nervousness at the potential for rejection, a strand of glossy black hair falling over her eyes. That moment of simple weakness sparked something in Angela, the same feeling that had burned in her when watching the woman gagged and denying herself, a desire to be the one standing over her then, the cause of that submission instead of merely a party to it. Observation, she knew, could never match up. And so…

‘Yes,’ she said, the feeling guiding Angela’s answer, rather than her brain. She felt her face twitch, just slightly, as her rational mind caught up with her mouth, but Mercy shook it off, decided for once to leap into something fun with both feet, just to see what happened next. It helped that she could remember the look in Molly’s eyes so clearly, that pleading desperation as she hung herself on the edge of orgasm, which made sticking by her choice so much easier, the hunger that it brought so ready to be sated. ‘Yes, that sounds like fun.’

‘Really?’ Molly squealed, relief writ large on her face. Then, she seemed to realize that she had become too loud in her excitement, offering the largely empty room an apologetic glance, before turning back to Angela. ‘That’s… wow, that’s great.’

Molly’s eyes flicked down Angela’s body, subtly, but not enough for Angela herself to miss it. A moment of speculative silence passed, as the younger woman looked over her teammate’s body, the gears in her mind clearly turning to perverse ends. Mercy felt herself blushing, but didn’t attempt to interrupt; it was… nice, to be looked at with such open, easy desire. What it told her was that she could have the girl in the palm of her hand, if she would only turn on a little charm…

‘Are you free tonight?’ Molly said suddenly, mental calculations running wild in her mind. The words “live show tonight, with special guest star!” appearing like skywriting in her imagination, the Overwatch logo displayed prominently below. Ticking clock mysteries brought her fanbase flocking to her streams, she knew from past experience, and with her Reaper video floating out over the net, collecting headlines and interested eyes wherever it went, her particular corner of the online world was primed and ready for Molly to burst onto the scene and break some viewership records. Angela would be the perfect partner to debut with, after Reaper; gorgeous, clean cut, nurturing and non-threatening, she was an ideal palate-cleanser after the rough and dirty dalliance Molly had uploaded prior, a promise of a softer side to her work with Overwatch.

‘Tonight?’ Angela sounded obviously eager. ‘Why not?’

‘Awesome, you’re the best!’ Molly leaned in suddenly and planted a kiss on the older woman’s lips, the tiny flick of her tongue causing Mercy to blink and bring her fingers to her mouth afterward. Winking, she continued, ‘It’s a date then, Dr. Ziegler. Oh, and could you wear your armor? That’s… that’s what the fans will want me to strip you out of.’  
***

The rest of the day passed in a jangling fugue of nervousness and excitement. Angela spent much of the afternoon either in the bathroom or the armor depot, primping both herself and her suit to as close to perfection as she could manage. By the time the sun began dipping on the horizon, she was made up to alluring perfection, skin softened and scented beneath a set of Valkyrie armor that shone under the strip lighting above, the hinges oiled and checked to avoid any unfortunate pinching incidents during an intimate moment. The only thing Mercy had left behind was her staff; she would want her hands free for what was to come. 

Junkrat wolf-whistled as she passed, and Angela ignored him. Nobody seemed to know how he kept getting inside the Watchpoint. 

Before she knew it, she was back at Molly’s door, taking a calming breath to steady herself before taking the final step and knocking. Molly answered after her first knock, her jaw dropping at the first sight of Angela, the words that had been lingering on her tongue falling away in the face of the carefully manicured image that the doctor had cultivated for herself. 

‘Hi Angela,’ she squeaked. ‘You, um, you look fantastic.’

‘Thank you,’ Mercy smiled, and pushed open the door herself, stepping into Molly’s space to gain entry into her room. Still staring, Molly allowed her in, and the younger woman’s clear, unambiguous interest emboldened Angela more than all the fantasies of having Molly all to herself ever would. It was one thing to watch the camgirl be submissive, and to fantasize about doing the same sorts of things to her; it was quite another to see her lay eyes on you, and to watch the instant flood of want that filled them. They entered into the bedroom together for a single purpose, and Mercy knew, from the moment she crossed the threshold, that Pretty Havoc would do whatever she wanted. 

She could practically feel Molly’s gaze linger on her ass when she passed. Mercy had forgone the usual tail of fabric that went between the skintight pants she wore and the rest of the world. The smile that the doctor wore was genuine, and elicited by the sheer thrill she felt in that moment. 

Molly was wearing her suit too, the skimpy clothing affording Angela an enticing view of the girl’s various curves, with only the visor missing, presumably so it didn’t obscure her face on camera. Apparently fetishizing Overwatch agents was a thing, a component of areas of the internet that Angela had done her best to avoid- no sense in sexualizing her comrades- until Molly had come along, sex as normal to her as flying the Valkyrie suit had become to, well, Mercy. Now, thinking sexually of one specific ally was all Angela could do, her combat suit becoming a costume within the confines of this bedroom, an accoutrement that turned what was to come into something so much hotter, somehow illicit for how against the grain of Overwatch as an organization it was. 

‘The bed’s all set up for us,’ Molly said, and it was easy to detect the twinge of nervousness in her voice. What was she afraid of, here? ‘My camera will catch whatever we do on there, just, you know, concentrate the action toward the foot of the bed, so it catches the relevant parts better.’ 

‘Very well, Molly,’ Angela inclined her head, then sat at the edge of the bed. ‘I’ve never done this before…’

‘Just the porn thing?’ Molly asked. ‘Or do you mean, being with a girl…’

The young lady trailed off, had no choice in the matter, because in that instant, Angela leaned in, placed one hand at the back of Molly’s head and the other on her waist, and kissed her, long and deeply. Her fingers curled in the younger woman’s dark hair, and in return, Molly melted into the kiss, her mouth opening to allow Mercy entry, her tongue pressing against the doctor’s as she took what was hers. A whimper lilted through the air, as Angela pressed the advantage, positioning herself over the top of Molly and enveloping the girl with her touch. 

‘Just the porn thing,’ Mercy whispered in Molly’s ear, once she had allowed the new Overwatch agent to pull away. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Molly had gasped for breath afterward, her lungs depleted; in fact, it had been Mercy’s plan. 

‘I… um…’ Molly grasped for words that would not come, her hands remaining on Mercy’s hips, where she had placed them during that long, languorous kiss. 

‘Start the recording, Pretty Havoc,’ Angela lilted, calling on every ounce of battlefield steel and surgeon’s grit she had at her command to make the order impossible to disobey. Molly didn’t even try, though there was a frisson of reluctance when she stopped touching the doctor to turn to her keyboard. A moment later, a red light appeared above the camera’s lens. 

‘Uh, hi everyone,’ Molly’s voice was notably unsteady, suggesting to the audience piling in what had happened just prior to the recording. Mercy watched, over the girl’s shoulder, as the number of people viewing the stream continued to climb, digits increasing almost every second. A tiny, growing thrill of excitement twisted in her gut to see it, but she turned to face the camera as the camgirl continued, ‘as promised, we have a very special guest with us tonight, I’m sure you all know who this is: Dr. Angela Ziegler, the famous- mmmph!’

This time, Mercy bore Molly down onto the bed when she kissed her, the weight of her body pressing the girl into the mattress as she robbed her of speech. One eye on the preview window showed Angela that the camera could now only see their lower halves and Molly’s outstretched arm as she gripped the sheets, moaning freely into the doctor’s mouth. When released, it was Angela that came up first, something new and prideful burning in her breast; when Molly finally pushed herself upright, it was with Angela’s fingers gripping softly in her hair. 

‘Hello everybody,’ Angela quipped, waving with her free hand at the camera. ‘Who wants to see me play doctor with my pretty little underling, here?’

Immediately the answers began to flow across the screen, and Mercy didn’t need to read them to know their contents. Jangling tones followed, a repeated series of sounds that Molly quietly explained were the sound of tips being deposited into her account, a furious burst of charity designed to encourage them onward, into yet more daring territory. Smiling, Mercy winked at the camera, playing up to the audience, and pulled down gently on Molly’s hair, raising the girl’s chin and exposing her neck. 

‘I’m going to take the lead here, Pretty Havoc,’ Angela murmured, her lips against the soft skin of Molly’s neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive places there. ‘As your senior agent, I believe there are some things I can teach you. As your doctor… well, shall we say it is incumbent upon me to give you a thorough workout? Do not fight me on this, Molly…’

‘I won’t!’ Molly gasped, as Mercy nipped at her skin. The young woman’s eyes were wide, surprised at this new side of Angela and, more specifically, just how easily this all seemed to come to her. It made a girl wonder…

‘I think it’s time for you to take off your clothes, then,’ Angela cut in, interrupting that train of thought before it could get anywhere significant. ‘I’d make some silly joke about getting your physical, but that’s not the reason…’

There was no sense that Angela was content to let Molly strip herself, however, as the doctor hooked her fingers into the cleavage of Molly’s shirt and pulled, dragging it down over her breasts. Almost immediately, those skilled fingers- dexterous enough to operate on a person, Molly reminded herself- went to her belt, undoing the only clasp that kept Molly’s outfit together in a matter of seconds. Standing, Molly allowed her suit to fall, pooling around her ankles before, naked, she let herself be pulled down into Mercy’s lap. 

‘Beautiful…’ Angela sighed, and this time it was Molly’s turn to blush, and then blush even more brightly, as the doctor’s tongue slipped into her mouth, running a slow, flexible trail over her teeth for a moment before pulling away. ‘Now undo my breastplate.’

This took longer that one might think, as Molly’s fingers fumbled at the multiple clasps and buttons keeping the chest armor sealed, and Mercy took numerous opportunities to toy with the girl in her lap too, stopping the action to kiss her or flick her nipples, until Molly was a squirming, whimpering mess by the time she finally got the breastplate off. Carefully, almost reverently removing it bared Angela’s chest, all generous curves and soft, heavy flesh. The older woman smirked. 

‘Do you like what you see?’ She asked to Molly in the main, but saw multiple responses- all positive- pop up on the chat stream too. Pretty Havoc’s eyes lingered on Mercy’s bust, the attention sending the doctor’s confidence soaring higher, as tips continued to pour in at, if anything, a far higher rate than before. ‘Oh my, your fans certainly do. You weren’t kidding… and you all out there, boys and girls, I haven’t even gotten started yet.’

Flying on wings of pure, unadulterated confidence, buoyed by the positive reaction thus far, Angela pulled Molly closer, her face coming to rest in her senior’s pillowy bosom. The camgirl didn’t need to be told what to do next, her time floating atop the internet’s sea of perversion cluing her in easily to what her… their audience would want to see. Seeking out the older woman’s nipples- pale and pink and perfect- Molly captured one between her fingers, and the other between her lips. Above, Mercy cooed, and encouraged by the sound, Molly went to work, rolling her tongue around the rapidly hardening pink peak in her mouth, fingers pinching and pulling the other to hardness. Angela tipped her head back, a cascade of golden hair falling about her neck, and exhaled a long, shivering breath. 

‘Ladies and gentlemen, she has a flexible little tongue,’ the doctor said, biting her lip. Molly blushed; she had never had a guest star on her streams before joining Overwatch, and there was something strangely humiliating about being both the center of attention and talked about as though she wasn’t there. When Angela looked back down at her, Molly knew instantly that this was no accident. ‘I’m going to enjoy that tonight, I think.’

Another flood of tips, a flurry of messages that, no doubt, were asking for so many things… Angela pointedly ignored them all. She was the one driving tonight.

‘Come with me, Pretty Havoc,’ she said brightly, pulling the girl gently to her feet by her hair and leading her over to a storage box in the corner of the room, a box that Angela knew contained an assortment of Molly’s toys. She had seen that box in many of the streams that she had… indulged in, since D.Va’s first recording had ignited a spark in Mercy that had sent her scurrying surreptitiously to Molly’s little corner of the net; Angela hoped that her knowledge of the younger woman’s quarters, gained without really spending any great length of time there, would speak for itself, hinting to the camgirl that she had had a viewer closer to her than she had suspected.

It was hard to tell, given how deeply Molly was blushing already, but Angela thought she could detect a faint increase in the pale girl’s redness… perhaps the hint had landed after all.

Pulling the latch and lifting the lid, Mercy gestured to the perverse, battery-powered contents of the box, taking a little internal moment to approve of just how clean and well-maintained Molly kept her toys. A thicket of shafts and buttons and straps extended from the top of the box to the bottom, a veritable treasure trove of pleasure sitting before the two of them. With a lascivious grin- cast back over her shoulder for a moment, toward the camera- Mercy pointed Molly toward the box. 

‘Won’t you pick out a nice strap-on for me to take you with, Molly?’ The doctor asked, her mien downright angelic, as though she had asked the sweetest question in the world. Blushing, Molly couldn’t even envision a world in which she could possibly refuse; she got to her knees beside the box, the posture terribly natural given the situation. She could have just bent at the waist and picked something out from her collection… but kneeling before Mercy seemed right, deep down in Molly’s marrow. 

There were too many options to pick something quickly, every dildo in the box compatible with one of the packing harnesses that sat at the top of the pile, the fabric faded and well-used. Paralysis of choice set in, as the statuesque blonde woman loomed overhead, the knowledge that this may be the first and only time that Molly got to be with Angela making it imperative that she make it the best possible dalliance that she could, for the both of them; a poor first time didn’t often lead to a second time, after all. For a moment, a flexible, jointed dragon dildo called to her, Molly’s imagination lighting up with the image of the sweet-and-sultry woman standing over her wearing the thing. The next second, her gaze passed over a wriggling, mechanical tentacle, and she shivered with instant desire. 

But then, Molly noticed the cobalt tip of her thick, long favorite, the toy she went to whenever she needed to be stretched, to feel the sort of fullness that wasn’t often found attached to a man. Biting her lip, she pulled it from the tangle of straps and cocks and shyly offered it to Angela, who smiled gently down at her and took the dildo from her. 

‘Oh my,’ Mercy said, turning the artificial shaft over in her hands, examining it from every angle. ‘This one is fierce, Molly. Look at our little size queen here, ladies and gentlemen!’

The doctor winked toward the camera, before leading Molly back to the bed and laying her down upon the sheets. Picking up the tiny webcam from its place on her dresser, Mercy angled the viewers so that their vantage point ran down Molly’s naked body, all bare skin but for her gloves, the one piece of her combat suit that Angela had allowed her to keep on. Turning the lens on herself for a moment, Mercy frowned. 

‘You know, if you went to Winston, I’m sure he could make you a floating version of this thing, really improve your camera angles,’ she said. ‘Not that it matters right now, of course. We need to get you ready, because I wouldn’t want to use this monster on you’- and here Angela hefted the strap-on in one hand- ‘without you being properly lubricated. So Molly, I want you to take those cute little gloves you’re wearing and touch yourself with them.’

The doctor had phrased that request so innocently, her tone no different than if she had asked Molly to turn her head and cough, sweetness suffusing a command that hung heavy with expectation, demanding Pretty Havoc to comply. She did, of course- the slowly growing throb in her clit made the prospect of masturbating all too enticing to hesitate- and allowed herself to moan freely as her fingers tracked over her clit, aware of the camera looking down at her and the people watching her live right now. The thrill of exhibitionism hadn’t faded in all her time curating her porn blog, and Molly quickly settled into an easy, familiar rhythm, her hips rolling against the touch of her own fingers, her eyes wide and wanting, looking alternately up to the camera and to Angela behind it, her lusty little camerawoman, watching the show with blushing cheeks and slowly rocking hips.

The urge to pull the doctor down onto the bed with her was hard to deny, but Molly didn’t dare, not with Angela’s newfound assertiveness… nor the thick, intimidating strap-on she intended to use on her. It would be easy, Molly reflected, for that thing to be used in an awfully mean manner. 

‘Pretty Havoc?’ Mercy lilted, her voice dripping with honey. ‘Bad Touch, please.’

The newer agent paused for a moment, blinked at her senior in surprise, but found herself obeying anyway. Her gauntlets had come with a Bad Touch setting of a low enough output that it wouldn’t do any lasting damage and would, in fact, feel rather pleasant, in an “I’m a masochist and this feels about right,” sort of way. Molly had obviously tried this herself, and had even done so on camera once she had finally been accepted into Overwatch and the idea of streaming in costume had become deliciously illicit, though never with anyone else actually in the room with her. Bad Touch had always been her happy little secret, but Angela’s eager eyes compelled her to turn it on, to run her fingers over the sodden lips of her pussy and feel the arcing electrical tingle begin to ramp up into full blown discomfort, a kind of skin-deep burn that made Molly squirm and mewl to the audience. 

… Only partly for play, too.

Her breath caught in her throat as one tiny spark flew from the gauntlet to her clit, her hips bucking as a wash of pleasure-pain ran through her, yet she forced herself to continue, driving through the pain and letting it sharpen the moments of pleasure that followed. The entire time, Molly kept her eyes leveled not on the camera, but on the woman behind it, sharing her wincing, hapless masturbation with the one who had ordered it to be so. As if in response, witnessing every moment of her junior’s conflicted pleasure, Mercy slowly began to strap the ice blue dildo Molly had selected around her waist, preparing herself to take over once she had seen enough of Pretty Havoc abusing herself for her guest star’s amusement. 

By the time the dildo had been secured, Molly was well and truly ready to take it. 

In one smooth and graceful movement, Angela positioned herself between Molly’s legs, pushing the girl lightly onto her side and hefting one of her ankles up onto Mercy’s shoulder. One hand came to rest, fingers at the inside of Molly’s thigh, after the doctor perched the camera atop the shelves at the foot of Molly’s bed, affording those watching the stream a good wide shot of the nude woman and the medicine woman standing over her. Without giving Molly enough time to adjust to her new position or play up to the camera in any way, Angela pushed forward, the intimidating tip of her fake cock sliding into the younger woman’s wet, tingling pussy. 

Molly’s answering gasp was drowned out by a flurry of tips that went well into the long, breathless moan that followed, as Mercy moved deeper and deeper into the girl, ironically merciless in her thrust. There was, of course, a limit to the depth Angela could go to with her current angle, but with a cock as thick as the one she was wearing, even that limitation did not stop Molly from being filled completely, her stretched hole on perfect display to her massed followers, who flooded the chat with messages both encouraging and downright lewd. Angela took a moment, buried almost to the hilt in Molly, to read a few, unable to stop the bemused smile that spread across her face; Pretty Havoc had some remarkably positive fans. 

This didn’t stop her for long, however; beginning absently at first, her body just moving according to what felt good, Mercy rolled her hips, pushing the strap-on in and out of Molly’s wet heat just to feel the base of the cock grind against her own pussy through her pants. The doctor was encouraged when the girl mewled in response, driving the false erection deeper, letting it linger in her fellow agent, stimulating her depths with small, scything movements meant to rub against sensitive places inside her, before finally drawing back so that only the strap-on’s flared tip remained inside Molly. 

‘You like that, Pretty Havoc?’ Mercy purred, the tone in her voice suggesting at least some degree of play-acting, a kind of erotic improv that now required a second participant. ‘Shall I give you more?’

‘Ohhhh my god yes,’ Molly replied, the words tumbling out of her in a single torrent of arousal-charged sound, vibrating with pure need and paired with undulating, writhing hips, the younger agent fucking back with heedless abandon, pleasure taking precedence over decorum. Fingers trailing down Molly’s thigh, Mercy reached down, finding the girl’s clit with the unerring accuracy of a physician, and as she stroked that sensitive place Molly was tempted to ask her whether she had ever been a gynecologist. 

Fortunately, the joke slid away beneath a tide of pleasure. Angela ramped up her thrusting with surprising skill, pushing deeper, practically bouncing Molly up and down on her false erection, the slickness of her junior agent aiding the process, easing the journey of the thick shaft into Molly’s deepest places. Beside them, the world watched through the tiny webcam, and commented either with their dollars or their chat client, but none of that mattered to the pair of women. None of it could break their concentration, the desire in Mercy’s eyes as she swept her gaze down the youthful, slender body splayed out beneath her, the heedless pleasure spreading through that very same body, sufficient to make Molly forget that she was on camera, turning her time with the doctor into sex, not show. Absorbed in one another, eyes flashing lust, bodies moving together and finding their own rhythm, a maximization of pleasure that left Molly panting and writhing at the end of Angela’s dick. 

All of it beamed out to a million different sources online, thousands of eyes watching live, some of whom would save the footage and post it elsewhere, where the carnal, sapphic display would spread yet further, where “Overwatch porn,” thinkpieces would be written, questioning whether such things were okay, pearls clutched and decorum invoked. Angela had seen it all before, watched the world turn and make up its multifarious, bickering mind about her after the First Omnic Crisis; she was used to being put in the spotlight and then questioned about whether she had ever deserved to be there at all. So, she supposed, was Molly, in her own way. 

That the younger agent could be so present in the moment with her, ignoring the camera and unwilling to put on a show outside of her own genuine pleasure and sensuality, was a kindness that Angela did not ignore. 

It drove her to focus more heavily on Molly’s pleasure, stroking the writhing girl’s clit with all the skill she could muster and fucking her in slow, deliberate strokes. Every moan, fluttering breath, or twitching muscle on the girl was encouragement, Angela’s own private porn show playing out close enough to touch, and she absorbed herself in it as much as she might a complex medical case, some intractable surgery, to be worked at until completion. 

When Molly came, clenching down hard around the strap-on, Angela knew she had reached that moment. She stilled, only the pads of her fingers working over Molly’s clit with the lightest of touches, stoking yet greater ecstasy from the woman, drawing wave after wave of orgasm from her. The dildo remained buried inside her, a thick and unyielding constant for Pretty Havoc’s wet walls to press against, as her hips rolled with instinctual carnality. The webcam watched the two women care about nothing other than Molly’s climax, and the viewers on the other side paid them for the privilege. 

In the twitching, gasping aftermath, Mercy pulled out of Molly and reached for the camera before the younger woman could come to her senses and question what happened next. Looking down the lens, the doctor allowed her viewers one last pan down the pale, sticky-thighed Molly, and even a final pass over her own body, before addressing them directly. 

‘That’s the end of our show, ladies and gentlemen,’ she said, and then winked. ‘What happens next is not for you. Pretty Havoc and I have some things to sort out.’

Pulling the lead from Molly’s computer, Angela cut off the audience’s feed of them, then turned to her panting, reclining co-star. Blushing hard and with limbs akimbo, it seemed as though every iota of tension in the camgirl had been obliterated, erased entirely from her frame and leaving behind a limber, relaxed collection of loose muscles and mussed hair. Her eyes were glazed over, and they regarded Angela with slow, sensuous attention.

‘We do?’ She asked, running her fingers absently over her well-used pussy, which caused her to gasp in sensitivity. ‘That’ll be… nice. I haven’t been fucked like that in a while, it’s so very, very pleasant…’

‘I know my way around a woman’s body,’ Mercy gave a saintly smile, but it was hard to look anything but sexual with your clothing exactingly stripped so that your breasts alone were bared, let alone while wearing a fake dick dripping in another woman’s come. ‘Later on, maybe I’ll tell you some stories. For right now though, I believe you owe me something, Pretty Havoc.’

‘Mmm, I do?’ Molly found herself moaning, as Angela silently went to work stripping off the strap-on, and peeling her pants down her hips, revealing a lower body begging to be grabbed onto and held close. A pale thatching of blonde hair crowned her cunt, and the camgirl couldn’t help but stare with open hunger. 

‘Oh yes,’ Angela purred, climbing up onto the bed beside her. ‘Getting off for free is not covered in Overwatch’s insurance plan, young lady. You’re going to have to repay your doctor…’

Without waiting for Molly to respond, Mercy hitched one leg up over the younger woman, straddling her neck and lowering her pussy slowly onto Molly’s mouth. Obediently, the camgirl went to work, her slick and flexible tongue sliding between the folds of Angela’s hole, eliciting a long denied groan from the older woman, transforming suddenly into a gasp as Molly found her clit and wrapped her lips around it. Reaching up behind her head, she let her hair down, a cascade of golden locks falling between the wings of her suit; there was no need to keep up the pretense of Mercy, not now that they were alone. 

She could simply be Angela, grinding her hips against Molly’s face. The girl’s nude blog was now no longer a concern, that professional illusion faded in the face of the pleasure of being together, the warm and soft and primal fact of fucking her young comrade; sex, uncomplicated and satisfying. 

Angela came screaming, her fingers threaded through Molly’s hair as she pushed her pussy into the woman’s mouth, howling her ecstasy to the rafters. It was the loudest Molly had ever heard the doctor be, and as her sweet juices flooded onto Molly’s tongue, she promised herself it wouldn’t be the last time she heard that sound, whether she needed a camera for that or not.


End file.
